


it's not living (if it's not with you)

by besitos



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Language, and lapslock !!!, implied eating disorder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-16 02:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16945476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/besitos/pseuds/besitos
Summary: over the span of his twenty two years, kwon soonyoung has learned that when he loves, he loves deeply and irrevocably





	it's not living (if it's not with you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [psychicfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychicfire/gifts).



> this is so !! exciting.... svt secret santa 2018, wooOooOoOOooo !!! 
> 
> thank you, to my recipient, for giving me the opportunity to write this fic—it was such a delight <3 this probably (most likely) isn't what you were expecting your secret santa would write based off of the information you provided (somehow, angst came into play, but i tried to make it as light as possible!!!), however, i hope that my gift to you is something that you'll come to cherish.
> 
> (also: thx to the 1975. a brief inquiry into online relationships = all i listened to while writing this).

usually, once the sun sinks under the horizon, and the sky becomes flush with an array of pink, orange, and yellow, that’s how soonyoung knows he's only halfway through his day.

but today's an exception, and all soonyoung wants is to get home and take a well deserved ice bath.

the city comes alive at night, loud with the bustling chaos of pedestrians on the sidewalks and reckless drivers on the street.

rehearsals for _the nutcracker_ have been going on for a little over a month now, hours at the studio getting progressively longer and more stressful with each passing week. it’s only mid-october, but soonyoung knows that he still has a long way to go.

the sound of a deep sigh interrupts soonyoung from his thoughts, and he looks up to see his fellow company member, wen junhui, studying him. junhui’s face is beautiful, despite the two-and-a-half hour long company class they’ve just powered through. soonyoung can’t help but think of what he looks like in comparison—his face is probably blotchy and sporting a thin sheen of sweat—and winces.

“hey. sorry for taking so long to pack up, i really don’t like to rush my theraband exercises,” soonyoung stands and winces as he puts weight on his left leg. “i hope i didn’t cut into you and giselle’s time too much.”

“no, you’re fine! i just wanted to come in earlier to get some extra practice time.” junhui’s words are rushed, and there’s something about his tone that makes it seem like he still has more to say.

soonyoung toys with the blue theraband in his hands as he makes his way to the spot at the barre he had occupied earlier—to collect his discarded warm-ups, foam roller and backpack—humming a bit of _waltz of the flowers_ to himself.

“i, uh, really thought you weren’t going to come back, you know. not after you… never mind.”

 _not after you almost died_. the unspoken words cause soonyoung’s back muscles to unconsciously tense, but he knows junhui’s intent in saying them wasn’t malicious. lately, the way everyone talks to and around him seems too soft and gentle. as if they fear that soonyoung is going to break again under the weight of words that are much too heavy.

junhui makes no further attempt to continue whatever possible conversation they could’ve had, and soonyoung is relieved.

the starting notes of the cavalier variation reach his ears after he has all his things and is starting to make his leave. from the corner of his eye, he can see jun marking the steps with his body, eyes closed.

something akin to jealousy makes his stomach churn.

\----------

soonyoung’s love for dance began at an early age. growing up, his mother had taught at his local dance studio, and before that, she had been a notable soloist for the korea national ballet.

then, she’d gotten pregnant.

while she tells her son that he’s her greatest accomplishment in life, soonyoung can’t help but feel that she’s not being entirely truthful. he knows, from the stories her friends would tell during their reunions and the old newspaper article clippings he’s found in the memory box under her bed, that he came along at what can be described as an inconvenient time.

he’s never told anybody this, but deep down, he feels as though the only way he can truly make it up to his mom is to make a name for himself in the dance world.

and what an ugly world it is.

soonyoung eventually had to graduate from skips across the floor while wearing fairy wings and his mother’s gentle hands on his back during their barre exercises. at the age of fourteen, he began his studies at a boarding school, internationally recognized for its emphasis on the performing arts, just outside of boston—what would be his first taste of toxic competitiveness between even the closest of friends, and feelings of incessant jealousy.

he remembers vividly the anxiety that swirled in his gut his entire trip from korea to the states. the only thing he feared more than the language barrier was the fear of disappointing his mother.

his first week would’ve been hell had it not been for jeon wonwoo, a student his age in the visual art department, to guide him through the most crucial event: student orientation. they were roommates, and they got along well from the moment they met. wonwoo was the son of korean immigrants, and while his korean could be choppy at times, as is usually the case for heritage language speakers, the two boys agreed that in this aspect, their friendship would be mutually beneficial—wonwoo’s korean would improve as would soonyoung’s english.

although soonyoung was able to find a safe haven in the other boy, it wasn’t like he was going to be able to cart wonwoo around campus like his personal bodyguard. his first day of academic classes was tough—mondays usually tend to make bad days worse—and even though he had passed with flying colors the exams necessary to enroll at the school, throughout the entire day the only word he could find in his vocabulary to describe himself in this situation was _stupid_.

when came time for his dance classes, the first one that day starting an hour after his lunch period, soonyoung started to panic. for as long as he’d been dancing, he’d always been  _the_ star student. the one that the teachers would always subtly praise for the pretty lines of his body, perfect turn out, and double _pirouettes_. he couldn’t imagine living in a world where he wasn’t the best.

the first on his monday schedule  was a co-ed hour-and-a-half technique class. soonyoung got to the boy’s locker room right after he finished his lunch with wonwoo, with the intend to stretch thoroughly before entering the studio, just so that he could have a higher probability of impressing whoever his teacher was. when the other students started trickling into the locker room fifteen minutes before class, soonyoung ignored their pointed stares as he fiddled with his ballet foot stretch. (he remembers how feverently he cursed the heavens when two boys that had been throwing wads of paper at his back in his history class walked in, talking loudly and pushing each other into the lockers. he also remembers how he resolved that he would prove to them that he had earned his earned his spot through hard work, and had every right as they did to be there).

to soonyoung’s delight, the teacher singled him out almost immediately, impressed by his technical abilities. he knew that while gaining favor of a teacher was dangerous, especially as a foreigner, he couldn’t find in himself a single motive to care for things such as someone sneaking small shards of glass into his ballet shoes. all he cared about in that moment was getting that moment of victory to gloat over the boys that had been mocking him earlier for his thick accent and distinct eye shape.  

\----------

soonyoung wants his ice bath. it’s all he can fantasize about as he drives home, and he can’t help but scoff at how pathetic that must be to a normal person. however, soonyoung isn’t a normal person, and it’s something his mother has always reminded him of—he gave up his childhood and teenage years to chase a dream that is unattainable by most.

once he steps through the front door of his apartment, he drops his backpack and foam roller directly besides him, and toes off his shoes, placing them in their spot on his (meticulously) organized shoe rack. then, he makes a beeline for his bathroom, tugging off his articles of clothing as he goes, with the final goal of amassing a ball of dirty laundry in his arms to chuck into the hamper inside his room.

he opens the door to his bedroom, and is about to start pulling off his trash bag shorts when he catches sudden movement on his bed from the corner of his eye.

“don’t strip! don’t strip, i’m begging you!”

boo seungkwan’s unmistakable voice rings through the room, and as much as soonyoung want to _destroy_ his best friend for one, coming into his apartment unannounced, and two, laying on his bed, which is always off limits unless you’re absolutely clean (which seungkwan, the grubby little fellow, never really is, with all due respect).

“seungkwan, do you want to tell me why you’re in _my_ apartment? invading _my_ personal space?” soonyoung tries his hardest to seem menacing, but he knows his best friend won’t fall for that.

sure enough, seungkwan lets out one of those infectious laughs of his. “very scary, soonie. besides, nothing i haven’t seen before, right?”

soonyoung pretends to gag at the smirk seungkwan shoots at him. “gross, dude. you have a boyfriend, in case you don’t remember. and also, you’re a baby, so please don’t talk like that. it was hard enough to accept the news that you had started dating vernon.”

seungkwan rolls his eyes. “you need to stop calling me and referring to me as a baby. do you know how confused my hansolie was when he heard the words ‘so you’re the one who’s dating my baby, seungkwannie, huh?’. he seriously thought for a second that i wanted to be a throuple, or something.”

the older bursts out laughing. “are you serious? like, it never occurred to him that people can call others ‘baby’... platonically?” soonyoung takes a seat on the floor, prompting seungkwan to scoot off his bed and take a seat next to him.

“why are you here, honestly?” soonyoung asks, face serious, after some moments of silence.

the younger squirms under his gaze. “i just… wanted to check up on you. i haven’t been the bestest friend recently, you know. and i want you to know that i’m always here for you.”

soonyoung feels a sudden spike of irritation. “seungkwan, i’m not going to consider you a villain just because you want to spend time with your boyfriend. i understand, okay? i mean, you’re still in your honeymoon phase, or whatever you kids call it nowadays, so it’s kind of expected. also, i don’t need you to be checking in every single day with me. i’ve been doing just fine.”

seungkwan frowns at this. “soonie, i don’t think you’re understanding what i’m trying to say. i’m not doing this solely because i feel guilty for my actions. or because i don’t think you’re doing ‘fine’, or however you may be doing. you’ve been isolating yourself a lot lately, and i got worried. i mean, last time you did that—”

“—why does everything have to always come back to _that_?” soonyoung cuts in, exasperated. “i’m so sick and tired of everyone acting like i’m going to go all self-destruct mode if there isn’t at least one pair of eyes on me at all times. it’s annoying. so fucking annoying. i’m taking care of myself, okay? i’ve been going to see my nutritionist. and even though i don’t always eat full meals, i never skip one. i... i’m just tired of everyone underestimating my abilities.”

“no one is underestimating you, soonyoung. we just want to help you.” seungkwan extends his arm, with the intent to place his hand on soonyoung’s cheek, but the older swats his hand away brusquely.

“i don’t need your help, or anyone else’s, for that matter,” he mutters darkly. “please, leave. i don’t want you to be here if you’re going to be trying to play the role of the doctor and not that of my best friend.”

seungkwan’s voice sounds worn when he speaks again. “soonie, please.”

“don’t ‘soonie’ me and expect everything is going to be magically fixed. go back to your boyfriend. the past three weeks have been great without you here to annoy me like the giant pest you are.”

it’s quiet for a solid minute before seungkwan lets out a shuddering breath.

“okay, soonyoung. i’ll leave. if you need anything, you know i’m always here for you.” he stands up and leaves the room, the door closing behind him with a quiet _click_.

\----------

during a late night run to cvs pharmacy for a new tube of icy hot, soonyoung is caught in a surprise downpour.

“shit,” he hisses under his breath, as he tightens his coat around his body and pulls his beanie lower over his head, as though that will protect him from the steady falling of rain. he speedwalks aimlessly for several minutes, until he realizes he’s been walking in the opposite direction of home. he pulls out his phone to request a lyft, but the sight of his battery percentage, a measly 1%, is enough to make him step it up to the pace of a light jog.

the rain starts pouring harder after another five minutes, and that’s when soonyoung decides that he needs to look for a place to take shelter.

as if some kind of divine power heard his thoughts, when soonyoung rounds a corner, he sees a quaint, little flower shop on the other side of the street, with a sign that glows a neon bright pink, reading ‘elysian’. 

 _i gotta get in there_ , he thinks to himself. his teeth are already chattering from the cold water seeping in through his clothes, and the last thing he wants is to get sick less than a month before his performances start.

“please be open, please be open.” when he reaches the shop, there’s no sign that indicates whether it’s open or not. soonyoung checks his watch. it’s only 7:21 in the evening, not too late. he gingerly pushes the door, and lets out a small sound of surprise when it gives way. _huh_.

the first thing he notices is that the shop is a lot bigger on the inside than it appears to be on the outside. the second, is that there’s someone singing softly. the voice is lovely, and soonyoung finds himself mindlessly trying to find it.

“oh, hi there. how may i help you?”

the singing stops, and is replaced by a lulling voice that belongs to the (beautiful) boy that has materialized in front of soonyoung.

“i, uh. do you… do you happen to have towels or something? i got caught in the rain, and i’m probably dripping water all over your—” soonyoung looks down at his feet, expecting to see a puddle of some sort surrounding him. only, there isn’t. he furrows his brows in confusion, and when he places his hands over his clothes, he finds they’re completely dry, as though the rain had only been a figment of his imagination.

the boy giggles, and the sound of it catches soonyoung off guard. he would like to keep this stranger company, he decides in that moment, if it means he gets to hear that sound again.

“i’m jihoon,” the boy says with a coy smile. “would you happen to care for some warm cider?”

\----------

over the span of his twenty two years, kwon soonyoung has learned that when he loves, he loves deeply and irrevocably.

soonyoung considers his first love a classic tragedy. (he boasts—and even more when he's drunk—that by the time he was five, he had already evolved into his final form of a hopeless romantic).

up until age six, his sunday mornings consisted of trips to the park, because his mom didn’t believe in cartoons, where he would divide his time equally between playing with his bulldozer in the sandbox and attempting to push his mom on the swings. during the summer of his sixth year, however, a new activity joined the other two—admiring the boy who came to care for the plants in the park’s small garden while he was there. the first two times soonyoung saw the boy, he considered it odd that someone so young would be doing an old people job. but on the third week, he happened to walk by him to retrieve a soccer ball that had rolled into a bush, only to hear the small gardener singing to the dahlias.

it was love at first sound. the week after that, he pretended he had hurt his foot to skip out on soccer, and instead sat on the bench near the garden, pretending to read his _magic tree house_ book and look like he wasn’t enjoying listening to angelic singing. when soonyoung finally told his mom about the boy on their way to the park on the sixth week, she suggested that the two could maybe come up with a plan to work on the garden together, that way soonyoung could gain both a new experience and a new friend. unfortunately, ms. kwon’s suggestion would never be put into play, because gardener boy wasn’t there when soonyoung arrived. nor was he there the following week, or the week after that. 

this was how soonyoung's first love ended in his first heartbreak. (whenever he brings this story up in passing, his mom argues that he was much too young to experience either of the two, and he was probably just upset by the fact that he had lost the chance to make a cool friend. while her reasoning makes sense, soonyoung thinks that telling people that he cried himself to sleep for two weeks straight after the boy's disappearance is way more compelling). 

the second time soonyoung fell in love, was at fourteen. his high school experience at an american boarding school was an interesting time, to say the least. it was made up of many awkward experiences—like uncoordinated first kisses that were mostly teeth clacking uncomfortably against each other, and pieces of spinach that would get stuck in his braces at breakfast and remain there for the rest of the day. looking back, soonyoung is just grateful he was able to have wonwoo at his side for all four of those seemingly eternal years, first as a friend, and later as a boyfriend. (he’s also grateful that he was able to get all those aforementioned awkward experiences out of the way with wonwoo’s help as well, but that’s another story).

when came their time to part ways after their graduation, soonyoung was absolutely crushed. he would be staying more local, at the boston conservatory, while wonwoo would be attending brown. it took soonyoung a whole year to come to terms with the fact that their split has been for the better, and to this day, they remain good friends, with wonwoo inviting the dancer to his packed gallery exhibitions and soonyoung inviting the painter to his sold-out performances.

the third time soonyoung fell in love, it caught him by surprise. he was twenty, and the girl he had been paired with in his partnering class had endearing doe eyes and a sweet smile. they had been together for five months when soonyoung started to notice that her pupils were always more dilated than normal, and that it seemed she was always getting nosebleeds. he got a call one night from her mother. _heart attack_ , she’d sobbed into the phone, and soonyoung had cried with her, feeling as though his heart had been ripped out of his chest. he couldn’t understand what had driven her to resort to drugs, when he had considered her the brightest light in the universe.

now, as he gazes into jihoon’s eyes that sparkle with mirth, he thinks to himself that this is a person he can easily see himself falling (hopelessly) in love with too.

**Author's Note:**

> u have reached the end of the first part !!! i'll have the second part up soon, and definitely before january 1st (this is where all the Soft comes). i hope i was able to make a good first impression—writing soonhoon was just the teensiest bit tricky. 
> 
> thank u for reading !!
> 
> xx


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